


Hope's decision

by lucasli



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hinata Hajime doesn't exist, Hospitals, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Komaeda Nagito's Luck Cycle, Light Angst, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, but he does try, it's not really described how he almost dies, only implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucasli/pseuds/lucasli
Summary: Izuru’s mind was catching up now. The ache in his wrists, the terrified Nagito, the irony smell, Nagito’s pink stained fingertips and the wetness on his cheek. He still wanted Nagito to confirm it. Confirm the reality of what Izuru had done.Izuru was always bored, that’s how he was, how his brain was made to be. But somehow, once again, Nagito had stirred something in him.
Relationships: Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 2
Kudos: 76





	Hope's decision

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I can't tag and will go a bit more in-depht here. Izuru does try to kill himself, but he does not die. It's not described what his wounds looks like but it is said how or heavily implied how he did try do commit (he tried to bleed out). There is also one brief implication of the despair era and Junko as it's set sometime after that whole ordeal. Hope this helps and keeps you safe

“Izuru! Izuru!” a voice called. Loud, too loud. Yet it was so distant too. A strange echo that worked in reverse. Izuru groaned, sounding pained. Probably from the loud sound. The voice grew more desperate: “Izuru, please just wake up, please.”  
He… knew that voice. It was a voice that he had grown quite familiar with over the years. One that greeted him in the morning and sent him away at night. The voice of someone almost as sick as himself. The voice of Nagito Komaeda, his lover and his boring. And he sounded distressed.  
Slowly, Izuru opened his eyes, wondering why Nagito sounded so scared. Bright bathroom light temporarily blinded him before his lover’s face came into focus.  
“Izuru?!” Nagito shrieked. Tears were streaming down his face, and he had a wild look in his eyes. It was a horrible sight. It reminded him of that time and of her. But Izuru pushed it away, there were more important matters to attend to than that.  
“What?” the ultimate tried to ask. His voice didn’t work.  
“Oh my…Izuru, you fucking asshole”, Nagito sobbed, leaning down so that their foreheads met. Carefully he stroked Izuru’s cheek, leaving a faint trial of something wet. Something bloody.  
Izuru tried to sit up, but Nagito stopped him by holding his head gently but firmly in his lap.  
“No, no don’t move, please”, he said. Izuru stirred.  
“Why not?” he asked, voice hoarse but now semi-returned. Nagito was holding something back, obviously not wanting to tell too much. It didn’t stop Izuru’s thoughts from wondering: Why was he on the floor? Why were they in the bathroom? Why was Nagito so distressed and what the hell was that burning ache in his wrists.  
“Y-you can’t. We have to wait until they come. That’s what they said anyway.”  
“They?” Izuru’s mind was catching up now. The ache in his wrists, the terrified Nagito, the irony smell, Nagito’s pink stained fingertips and the wetness on his cheek. He still wanted Nagito to confirm it. Confirm the reality of what Izuru had done.  
The doorbell rang just as the pale man inhaled a shaky breath, saving him from having to explain who was at their doorstep. He pressed a quick kiss to Izuru’s head before rising.  
“Don’t go away. I love you”, Nagito said and left for the door.  
Izuru sighed. Darkness was dangerously closing in on the corner of his eyes, making his sight shaky and dizzy. He’d managed to keep it at bay during his and Nagito’s conversation, but it was quickly becoming too much. He was not going to be awake when ‘whoever’ came to fetch him.  
“Love you…too”, he whispered before breaking the one command he was given. 

Izuru didn’t like hospitals. Quite honestly he hated them. Hated the artificial comfort and safety, hated the doctors expressions that were never quite right, hated the memories the hospital beds made resurface.  
He was alone too, almost to rub salt in his wounds of how lonely he really was. His wounds being both external and internal. External and internal damage in his head. Cut up to remove all sensations except for this constant boredom that made him so ungodly tired. No wonder why he did it.  
A light knock dragged him out of his melancholic thoughts. Nagito was standing at the door. He had stopped panicking but the trauma from earlier was clear. His hair seemed flat, and his swollen eyes were holding back far too many emotions for one to carry.  
Izuru didn’t say anything as his lover walked over to him. They were quiet as Nagito leaned down to hug him. Izuru hugged back. He hated seeing his lover so empty yet so distraught. Mild comfort could only fix so little before the reality of it all came back.  
Nagito managed to hold his composure for a few more seconds before he let out a shaky sob.  
“You absolute moron. Don’t ever fucking do that again, especially when I’m not home”, Nagito scolded, moving away to look at Izuru. Green eyes staring angrily into red. Anger of the betrayed. Anger of the hurt.  
“It was sheer luck that I got home in time”, he continued. “You could have died.”  
“That…is the point of slitting ones wrists”, Izuru stated. Nagito let out breathy laugh, it almost sounded like a disappointed sigh. Izuru didn’t like that.  
“I know that, I know that very well.” The ultimate hope didn’t respond. The room became quiet except for Nagito sitting down in the nearby chair. Izuru gave him his hand, a quiet cry for comfort. Nagito took it, equally desperate for comfort too.  
“Why did you do it?” he asked after a while, rubbing circles into Izuru’s hand. He shrugged.  
“Was bored.” The pale man laughed; another pained wheeze forced from him so he wouldn’t break. Izuru had estimated many of those were to come.  
“It is…painful, being so bored all the time”, he tried to elaborate. “If life doesn’t satisfy you, why continue? Why not try something new?”  
“Because I love you.” Nagito interrupted. His pale green eyes glared at the floor, but his tightened grip on Izuru’s hand told him how serious he was.  
“It’s probably selfish of me to say this but: I need you, I want you. And if you’re dead, what am I gonna do? Who am I gonna become?  
Without you I’m less than nothing, even more hopeless than I am now. I don’t think I could continue on if you died. So please, stay alive for me. Even when everything is boring and painful and plain despairing I’ll be there. I’ll always be there, I’ll always be there with you.”  
Izuru was always bored, that’s how he was, how his brain was made to be. But somehow, once again, Nagito had stirred something in him. A feeling of loss, of fear, of despair and hope at the same time. If they had been in an anime it probably would have been an “awakening” scene for Izuru, with him suddenly realising how precious life really was and the true feeling of love and friendship.  
But this wasn’t an anime. This was real life, at least for them. The moment of emotion only lasted a second, but it was more than enough for Izuru to process later.  
Carefully he reached out his other hand, placing it softly on Nagito’s cheek. The other man looked up at him, equally careful curiosity in his eyes. Neither of them spoke; the touch doing it for them.  
“I’m sorry”, Izuru said after some time. “It was selfish of me to do this. I apologise for the stress I put on you.” Nagito smiled briefly at him.  
“It’s ok. Eh, maybe not literally but I forgive you”, he answered.  
More silence fell. Even though there was much to be said, neither had any energy to do so. At some point, Nagito crawled next Izuru on the hospital bed. He stayed there, holding Izuru until a nurse told them visiting hours were over.  
The night was cold and empty, much like all those other nights. Winter was just around the corner. Izuru knew Nagito would be exited for the cold. He always seemed to like the cold. Rather he liked to find the heat in a cold. Seeing his pale face flushed red and warm from the hot cocoa and seven blankets, smiling so happily as he and Izuru read a book or watched the fire; it was reason enough for Izuru to stay around at least for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaaa finally finished this one too lmao. This idea has been rummaging around in my brain for who knows how long. The first part is absolutely all over the place and I am so sorry for that. I've also realized most of my writing sounds really similar in all of my fics :-: I still hope you liked and enjoyed this depressing little mess.


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